The Well Worn Subject of Bulma and Vegeta
by Vegeta's Embodiment
Summary: The age old subject of Bulma and Vegeta, how they get together, and how they live together with no casualties.
1. In the Beggining...

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The Well-worn subject of Bulma and Vegeta. 

**Chapter One...Home and Hearth**

_Well, this is it..._Vegeta slowly landed in the middle of the lawn, dirt clouds repelling from his landing site from the force of his chi. Several of the Capsule Corp. employees in the immediate area gaped at the short man who was just airborne a minute ago. He was clad neck down in blue spandex that hugged his muscles, save for a white and yellow vest-like armor piece, white gloves that may have come from a Civil War Confederate officer, and white boots. Noticing their stares and feeling incredibly annoyed, he gave them his classic 'I'll-kill-you-all' glare, perfected through the years. The people immediately turned back to what they were doing and pretended not to pay him any mind. Smirking at the apparent weakness of the Chikyuu people, he turned his attention back to the large domed building in front of him. There was black lettering along the side. He searched through the files of his mind, sorting through the various languages he and Nappa had learned working for Frieza. A small smile crept on his face, when his lessons on the Common language of Chikyuu came flooding back to him. This was indeed the place he was looking for...and inside he would find Dr. Briefs and the answer to all of his problems. Vegeta straightened his back and raised his chin, walking through the revolving doors with a regal air. 

The first room he entered impressively suited his tastes. The walls were made of a blue stone, as was the floor, and the reception desk as well as the Capsule Corp. insignia on the wall were light blue marble. The chairs in the waiting area were also a light blue, with a black wood frame, and looked quite inviting. He nodded his approval and walked up to the reception desk, clearing his throat so that he would be noticed. The young woman who looked up at him smiled gently, and stated with a sorry air of authority that was almost laughable, "I'm sorry, but all of Miss Bulma's suitors are to be turned away. She is engaged and I'm afraid you're too late." She slowly looked him up and down. "But, I'm available," batting her green eyes furiously. 

Vegeta crossed his arms and shifted his weight to his right side, cocking his head to the side. "Baka. I have no business with that silly woman. I am here on business with Dr. Briefs. You will tell him I will see him immediately." He looked at the intercom pointedly. Not sure what to say, or what the man in front of her would do if she didn't honor his request, she decided it within her own benefit if she ask the doctor to see him. Uncertainly, she raised the receiver to her ear, then paused.

"May I tell him who is calling for him?"

"Tell him that I am Prince Vegeta of the Saiyajins."

"Alright...hold please." She typed in a few numbers on the keypad and then waited for a few seconds. Dr. Briefs himself must've picked up because she started speaking directly to him.

"Yes, Dr. I've got a man over here who demands to speak with you.... I believe he would like to see you in person.... I believe he said he was Prince Vegetable of the Saiyajins...yeah.... Yeah.... Uh-huh...Yeah! That's exactly what he looks like...hold on." She turned to Vegeta again. "Are you here to kill him?" 

"No. I said I was here on business, not murder." 

She nodded, then turned back to the phone. " Oh, your heard him. Okay...alright...Bye." She hung up and the turned and winked at Vegeta. 

"You must be someone special, because you're being permitted to go see Dr. Briefs in his home."

"Humph...Of course."  
She laughed as if he had told the joke of the millenium. "I like your attitude. Miss Bulma will be her to escort you in a few moments."

She motioned to a door and told him to wait for Bulma in there. He entered, finding a single chair and nothing else. He sat down on the little chair, shifting to get comfortable on the lilac-colored leather. The gold and lilac chair was the only color in this room, the rest being stark white, giving Vegeta a feeling that the room was much smaller than it actually was. The room was so well lighted that he couldn't even see the outlines of the doors. He could hear the steady hum of the lights. Feeling groggy from the trip, he dozed off for a few moments. When Bulma entered she had to take a double look of Vegeta. He looked so sweet and less, well, dangerous when he slept. She held back a giggle and cleared her throat. His eyes snapped open and he looked to her with that old familiar sneer on his face. 

"So your name is Bulma?" It was more of a statement than a question, a confirmation to himself. 

"Yes, also known as that GORGEOUS girl!" Laughter danced in her eyes when recognition of his own action came across his face. Then his eyes became unreadable again. 

"Yes, well, I must've been hit a little to hard on Namek right before I said that, because right now all I see is an ugly wench." He stood and a small smile spread across his face when anger jumped into her blue eyes. She turned and stomped off and he followed, chuckling under his breath. This was going to be more interesting than he fist thought. 

~~~

Vegeta stood in front of the doctor, clearly convinced that this guy was a tail short of a Saiyajin. Here he was trying to convince Vegeta that he couldn't handle 300Gs. It wasn't as if he was going to jump in at 300, of course he would gradually progress, but 300 was his goal for now. He lost his patience with the man, yelling, "BUT IT'S WHAT I WANT!!!" The black cat on Dr. Briefs' shoulder was knocked back, and the old man finally gave in.

"Okay, okay, Vegeta. If it's what you want. But I'm warning you, don't go to far too quickly."

"There are androids coming in three years doctor. I'll have to go quickly. Don't worry about me. I'm much stronger than any of you humans could possibly comprehend."

"Then why can't you beat Goku?" Bulma asked from behind. Dr. Briefs held his breath, thinking that Bulma was a goner for sure for what she said. He could see Vegeta's anger rising, and he had a feeling that the oncoming scene wouldn't be a pretty one. 

Vegeta stalked over to Bulma, who cringed a little as Vegeta's fist came up. However, instead of hitting her, he cupped her chin with a gloved hand, and forced her to look at him. 

"You're lucky you know how to operate these gravity rooms or else I'd use your shredded hide to clean my boots." 

She looked up at him defiantly. "I wouldn't want to bloody your precious armor, your royal Pain in the Arse." 

He smiled a little, then let go of her chin. "Red is a good color." Turning back to the doctor he spoke as if he were royalty back on Vejiitasei. "I will be in the front lawn. I expect a report on when this gravity chamber will be completed. In this chamber I will require a room as well as a shower on another level than the gravity room." 

The doctor seemed to think about something for a moment. Then he nodded as if he had reached an important conclusion on an experiment. "You could have a room in Capsule Corp. near where the chamber will be. You can stay here as long as you need. Bulma, dear, will you go ask your mother if there are any spare rooms on the far west side."

"Yes, daddy." 

Bulma left the room and quickly found her mother in the kitchen, putting up the latest of her bakery excursions. 

"Hey mum. Dad wants to know if we have any spare rooms on the far west side of the buildings."

Bulma's mother thought for a second, then brightened. "There's your old nursery, dear. I'll go prepare it! Oh! Who's our guest?"

Bulma hesitated for a moment, then answered in a low voice. "Vegeta." 

"Oh! You mean that wonderful young man who stayed with us when we had all those green visitors?"

"The one and only." 

"Well, then. I believe that that would be a perfect arrangement. He'll be right down the hall from you so that if you need help in the lab, you can ask him." 

"Uh, yeah mom."

Mrs. Briefs rushed off up the stairs to prepare Vegeta's room, leaving Bulma by herself, so she poured herself a cup of Kool-Aide and went back into the living room to finish the novel she was in the middle of. 


	2. Heartbreak

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The Well-worn subject of Bulma and Vegeta. 

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Last time on The WWS...

Mrs. Briefs rushed off up the stairs to prepare Vegeta's room, leaving Bulma by herself, so she poured herself a cup of Kool-Aide and went back into the living room to finish the novel she was in the middle of. 

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Chapter Two...Heartbreak

Bulma looked up from the book when she heard the door open and soft footsteps fell on the plush carpet. She smiled at Yamcha as he walked over and sat in the chair opposite her. Then, remembering that they were supposed to be on a date tonight, she jumped up and ran to her room, yelling for Yamcha to wait while she got ready. He couldn't help but laugh softly. Such a cluttered mind... He picked up the book she had been absorbed in and started to read where she had marked her place. Not quite understanding what was going on, he flipped to the back cover to read the summary. 

'An evil alien comes to Earth, and only the pride and love of a beautiful young woman can change his heart of ice.'

**_Hmph. Sounds like something she would like... _**He looked up when he heard Bulma coming down the stairs. It amazed him how she could get herself looking drop-dead-gorgeous in such a short amount of time. She was in a full-length formal blue dress that glittered in the light and went well with her hair and eyes. She kept her hair and makeup simple, giving him the impression that he was standing next to some sort of ancient goddess. He smiled down on her and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. 

"You look so good," she complimented, fingering the seams on his tux, noticing the way he was all dressed up for the first time. **_Was that a tinge of lipstick on his collar? It must've been mine. Yamcha wouldn't cheat on me again._** She averted her eyes from it, fully intending on having fun and not letting anything ruin the night for her.

On the way out, Bulma and Yamcha passed by Vegeta, who was being shown the way to his room by Dr Briefs. When their paths crossed, Vegeta looked at Yamcha with disgust, then his eyes wandered to Bulma. His gaze raked her body for a moment, then he quickly turned his head, pretending to be engrossed in what the doctor was telling him on the history of Capsule Corp. but he kept glancing at Bulma out of the corner of his eye. When they got into Yamcha's car, Bulma shivered. She could have sworn she saw something more than the usual disdain in Vegeta's eyes. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she could have sworn it was hunger. She shook the thought out of her head and turned her attention back to the road, curious to where Yamcha could be taking her. 

~~~

They pulled up in front of a club. Neon lights flashed everywhere and the beating of the strobe lights emanated from inside the door when someone opened it. Electronic music was all around, wrapping Bulma up in their beat, controlling the rhythm of her heartbeat. Yamcha hurried around to open her door. 

"We're dressed formally for club dancing?"

"Well, sorta. There's a little surprise here." He laughed and took her arm, guiding her through the crowd of people waiting to get in. There was a very tall man, who looked almost as built as Yamcha standing at the door, letting people in who were on his "list." Yamcha whispered in his ear, and they were admitted to get in. 

~~~

It turned out that there was a very ritzy restaurant on top of the club that was, thankfully, soundproof. After a nice dinner, Yamcha suggested that they go downstairs and dance a little. The dance floor was quite humid, so Bulma excused herself for a few moments to go freshen up. Waiting for her, Yamcha got bored and started up a conversation with a young lady near him. He tried to keep the conversation as innocent as possible and not flirt, because of his engagement with Bulma, but before he knew it, the blonde had her body pressed against his and was kissing him. He had to admit that he did like it, but he pushed her away. 

"I'm sorry, but I'm engaged. I didn't mean to lead you on, if I did." Blushing furiously, he walked away quickly, to be confronted by Bulma. 

"I...I know what you thought that was, but I swear..."

"Oh, Yamcha!" She threw her arms around him and gave him a tight hug. "I heard what you said to her. I'm so proud of you. Let's go home, okay?"

~~~

The breeze came in from the south, bringing the scent of jasmine. The gardens in the middle of Capsule Corp. were beautiful; flowers in full bloom, the sun setting on the mountains, splaying color across the sky. The stone benches in the middle of the grove of cherry trees looked ancient, and Bulma liked to imagine that hundreds of couples throughout the ages had sat, cuddling, as she and Yamcha did now. Fireflies were just starting to come out and dance around them, conjuring up pictures of faeries. It seemed that the whole night began to come alive, the cicadas presenting to music as the fireflies waltzed to Beethoven's _Elise._ She giggled as she saw a kitten staking a mouse, and _In the Hall of the Mountain King _emerged in the background. 

"What's that music?" Yamcha asked.

Bulma jumped as she realized that the song wasn't in her imagination, but someone was playing it. The song began to play faster and faster, until it sounded like someone going crazy, then it stopped, and the sound began anew. Bulma and Yamcha stood and followed the music, until they got to the music hall of Capsule Corp., when the music stopped again. When it started up, it wasn't the song it was before. Now someone was playing Bach's _Brandenburg Concerto No.3_. Whoever was playing it was playing it well, as it sounded more like a recording. She stopped for a moment, hesitant about going into the parlor where the grand piano was kept, and where the music was coming from. The musician ended the piece and paused a moment, as if it were a matter of life and death of what he chose to play, and Bulma could hear him, if were indeed a he, thumbing through sheet music on the other side of the door. Beethoven's _5th_ came up, and Yamcha, noticing her pause, whispered quietly, asking her permission to go in. She shook her head, and took his hand, leading them through a door and up a flight of stairs. To save time, Yamcha picked Bulma up and flew up the stairs. When they had passed through a few more doors, they were on a balcony looking down at the pianist. Bulma gasped, her jaw dropping. The pianist heard the sound and jumped, slamming his hands down on the keys in an explosion of sound and glared up at them. Ignoring his audience, he went back to playing, this time striking up Mozart's _Symphony No. 40_. Bulma had certainly not expected to see the person who sat below them at a piano. She never thought he would have a talent such as this. She and Yamcha sat and listened to Vegeta play. When Vegeta started to play Debussy's _Claire de Lune_, Yamcha said he had to visit the little warrior's room, and took his leave. He had been gone a few minutes, and Bulma thought he might have gotten lost since he had never been in this wing of the large house. However, she did find him. He was talking on the phone. Her gut told her that she should leave him to his privacy, but her curiosity got the better of her. 

Her eyebrows rose as she realized he was making plans to go to a girl's house after work the next day. She stepped out of the shadow she was in when he placed the receiver down. 

"And exactly WHO is Cindy?"

"She's my sister. She's invited me to her house for dinner."

"You're an only child Yamcha."

"So. She's a sister...really. From a nunnery." 

"Uh-huh. And I'm a Saiyajin in disguise." 

"Really, babe, I..."

"I'm tired of you lying to me, and seeing other people! You turn down the attentions of girls when I'm with you in public, then sneak behind my back to make plans with them, in my own house, no less. You are really low Yamcha, and I want you to leave."

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a prude..."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. I'm a man, Bulma. A man with needs."

"You know very well that I am saving myself for our wedding night."

"I'm not going to screw you and then leave. I'm not like that."

"Is that what you tell all those other girls? Besides, I'm not afraid of that. Sex is something sacred, that is shared between two people who..."

"Love each other. I know. And I love you, Bulma. I'd like to get the chance to show you."

"You'd show me love better if you were faithful, not by screwing me."

"Well, maybe if you got off your high horse and stopped being a snob..."

"Oh, so first I was prude, now I'm a snob, and you, my dear, are single." She twisted the ring off her finger and threw it at his face, cutting his lip as the jewel scraped across. Yamcha caught it in his hand as it fell to the floor, and stared at it a moment, then sadly walked out of the house. Bulma slid along the wall to a sitting position and tried to hold back her tears, but they came anyway. A shadow fell over the tile floor and she looked up, ready to tell Yamcha to go away, but instead she saw Vegeta standing in front of her. 

"You played beautifully. I couldn't help but cry," she lied. 

"Hmph. I heard the fight you had with the human. He isn't worth tears." He smiled a little and added, "Especially the tears of an ugly woman."

"GO AWAY! JUST GO AWAY! I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE AGAIN! I HOPE YOU DIE A HORRIBLE, DISHONORABLE DEATH!"

"You're right. I should leave you alone from now on. Your hideous face might rub off."

Bulma shook with rage and kept her voice low. "You are going to be one of those people with a lonely life and an even lonelier death. No woman would want to be with a monster like you." 

"At least I can satisfy Loneliness. You couldn't keep your pathetic boyfriend happy. I never knew what he saw in you. Were it I, I would have never touched you."

"You only say that because you wouldn't know how to touch a woman."

His eyes burned holes in hers. "Oh, you'd be surprised." He let his eyes wander, then turned and walked away, in the direction of his room, to meditate while his gravity chamber was being built. 


	3. BitterSweet Dreams

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the DBZ characters, or any of the bands, products or anything. Don't bother suing me, I have nothing of worth.

__

Once upon a time there was a handsome prince, noble and kind…. Bulma sat the book down, immediately disliking it. She glanced tiredly at the clock, aching eyes straining to see the time through the tears that hadn't run yet. She wouldn't let herself cry again, not with Vegeta in the room. However, the longer she sat in the living room next to the picture of the whole gang, the harder it was to keep the lump in her throat from rising. The picture that had been taken a year ago, the one with Yamcha's arms around her protectively, when he looked at her the way he now looked at other women. She sighed quietly; pretending the noise was from a stifled yawn, which wasn't hard to do, as tired as she was. 

Vegeta was sprawled in the chair, flipping through the channels, stopping on the History Channel to casually peruse a study of General MacArthur's battle strategies. He tired of it quickly, however, and flipped to the news broadcast, an amused smile on his face as a reporter buzzed on about a ten-car pile-up. When the commercials came on, he turned off the power and stood, heading for the kitchen. With the room finally quiet, Bulma could finally drift to sleep. 

**_She opened her eyes, realizing that she wasn't alone in the room. She stayed still, feigning sleep, but a chuckle informed her that the stranger knew better. A deep, silky voice cut the silence, causing her to jump._**

"Now, now, little one, that trick won't work on me, you can't get away from the game that easily."

Now he had her full attention. "Game?"

Vegeta stepped out of the shadows into a light that seemed to come from nowhere, as the room didn't have any visible doors or windows, nor was there a light bulb or fluorescent tube anywhere. He smiled cruelly, causing her to shiver, even though the room didn't seem to have a temperature. 

"Yes. All of life is a game, some aspects more pleasurable than others, and death is the only outcome. Whether it is a victory or a defeat is solely up to the player. And you, my dear, are today's contestant."

"So I'm to die?" Anger flashed in her eyes. His threats scared her as he had to power to follow through with them, and Bulma's best defense for her fright was anger. However his chuckle that followed her question disconcerted her. 

"Perhaps I didn't make myself clear. LIFE is the game, and not all games come to an end soon. As long as you play to win, but take your time, you'll live a long life."

"You should follow your own advice."

"I like to play quickly. I don't have the patience to take my time, but I do play to win." He thought for a moment, then added. "Maybe I was wrong. Life is more like a large tourney, containing many games. Not that it matters, though. Whether it is one game or many does not affect the outcome of this night. You are the only one who decides where this road leads."

"What of you."

"I am merely a figment of your imagination." He smiled after saying that, as if it were a great quote he would go down in history for saying, and then slipped back into the darkness. The room started to bend, and twist, the air contracting and she found herself thinking that it was hard to breathe. She found herself in another room, made of metals and silvers, buttons and keypads. There was an electric charge everywhere that got her adrenaline going, and she breathed the reek of technology like the most wonderful perfume in the world. A breath of air tickled the back of her neck and she turned around, finding him directly behind her, his face inches from hers. She stepped back and looked around her again. 

"What is this place?" She asked walking over to an exposed circuit board, kneeling down to inspect it. 

"This is nowhere. You made this up." She looked up at him for a moment, then stood, placing her hands on her hips. 

"You expect me to buy that? Why did you bring me here?"

"You decide why." She was about to say something more, but he held up a hand, silencing her. "Just look around. Press buttons. There is nothing in here that can hurt you."

He was gone again, and she sighed and went back to inspecting the room. There were no openings to be found, and all the walls were solid. She decided to listen to Vegeta and pressed a button. A touch-screen monitor came down from the ceiling and a comfortable chair appeared. She sat and entered the "Run" command into the computer. A program came on and explained to her that all the buttons had the same purpose: bringing down and taking up the computer, and supplying the chair or taking it away. A main menu popped up and Bulma scanned the operations. There was Music, Furniture, Food, Beverages, and one more button that wasn't labeled. She pressed the Music button and waited for a moment while a play list came up. It contained all her favorite songs. She glanced at the lineup. "Chemicals between Us" by Bush, "Lightning Crashes" by Live, as well as a great many Metallica and Aerosmith songs. Godsmack, Creed, Lifehouse, there was even songs by the Christian band The Newsboys. She smiled and pressed "Select All." She went back and tried the Furniture menu. There were couches, beds, and tables. She chose a black leather couch, cherry-wood table and a cherry-wood framed bed with black silk sheets and a black quilt. For food she chose a small fridge packed with fruits and desserts. From the beverages she got a large ice chest filled to the brim with Pepsi and a small bottle of White Zinfandel. Pleased with how the place was looking with the exception of all the silver machinery on the walls, ceiling, and floor, she hacked deeper into the system hoping to find a way to change those. She found it and gave herself cherry-wood floorboards, black walls, and purple lighting. The placed look really awesome, and Bulma sent the computer and chair back and plopped down on the couch, enjoying the coolness of the leather settling through her clothes and on her skin. She was so into the music that she didn't even notice that Vegeta had returned until his spoke. 

"Well done. I knew that you would make a suitable meeting place."

"What?" She sat up straighter, trying to make sense of his words. 

"This shall be the site of our game, my dear, and quite a fitting one at that."

"Fitting for what?"

"What ever you want."

"I WANT to know what is going on." He chuckled and sat next to her, studying her intently. His brow relaxed from it's usual scowl as he bent down to kiss her gently, and without thinking, Bulma returned it. They pulled back slightly at the same time, to stare at each other for a moment. Bulma's heart beat wildly in her chest, thumping so loudly in her ears that she was sure Vegeta's Saiyajin hearing picked up its tumult. The purple lights above started to beat with the same time as her pulse and before she knew it, she was in his arms, melting against his feather-light touches. The music stopped suddenly, though, interrupted by voices she vaguely recognized. Everything started to disappear, and lighten up and Bulma called out for Vegeta. His voice came through hard and uncaring. 

"What do you want woman?"

Bulma woke up with a start, stretched and yawned, rubbing her eyes free of the Sandman's mark. **_So it was just a dream_**. But why could she still feel Vegeta's fingers on her skin, light, but still burning with intensity through her clothes? She looked up from where she was slumped down deep into the chair at the worried faces of her mother and father and the not-so-worried one of Vegeta. Her mother knelt down beside her, her perpetual smile broken from concern.

"Are you okay honey? We heard you moaning and came down to see if you were hurt."

"Oh, uh…it was probably just a bad dream. Don't worry mom." **_Actually it wasn't all that bad. In fact… _**Vegeta's gaze caught her eyes and she blushed furiously, remembering his lips on hers. She excused herself quickly and went to take a shower, pushing Vegeta from her thoughts. **_It was just a dream…_**


	4. 30 or more for flirting for!

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ

Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ. If I did, I'd…um…well…I don't know what I'd do, but I'd do something. I also don't make money from this fic. If I did, then I wouldn't have tried to get the comic dealer to go down in price for the set of DBZ playing cards today. 

Last time: A wicked kool dream

This time: ^_^

Bulma successfully avoided Vegeta after the dream, and for the next few nights did not have any recurrences of it. Somehow, even though she was single again, the thought of his hands on her body was just…disturbing. Not that he wasn't good looking. After all, what woman couldn't resist the jet-black hair that always seemed to be a mess, intense black eyes, perfect tan, and features that seemed almost chiseled from stone. Stone…just like his heart. **_But stone put in the summer sun gets REALLY hot!_** Bulma balked at the logic. Was she turning into her mother, who gave Vegeta's bum an appreciative glance when he walked by? **_A very flat, toned bum…_**Bulma thought to herself before mentally kicking herself. Why was it that she was just now noticing Vegeta's looks? She had always been attracted to Bad Boys, Yamcha and that Red Ribbon dude to name a couple, but Vegeta? The idea was ridiculous. **_If it didn't just feel so comfortable…_** This time she slapped herself for real, then forced her to concentrate. **_Stupid dream…it's getting to my head._** Vegeta was totally different than those other guys. Yamcha and the Red Ribbon guy had both tried to kill Goku, but Vegeta had tried to kill Goku AND everyone else on earth. She scratched her head, and realized that it was rather pathetic to be attracted to her best friend's would-be-assassins. Maybe she should let the girl at the front desk let her suitors access again. No…they'd just be after her money…**_IDEA!_** Bulma smiled as she sat back on the couch. **_I'll go where no one knows me…heh heh. Bulma, you ARE a GENIOUS! _**She got up and ran up the stairs to get ready. Tonight Bulma Briefs was going to go clubbin' with a vengeance. What would an acceptable goal be? 10? 20? Nope, no stopping until 30 numbers were in her black book. **_Which is empty right now…_** She laughed. **_That'll change soon._**

From his room, Vegeta could hear Bulma's laugh as she ascended the stairs. **_What is she up to?_** He had heard that laugh before. When he was twelve, his roommate had laughed like that before committing suicide. **_Better keep an eye on her. If she does away with herself, who will fix the gravity room? Or argue with me? _**He had to admit it was fun to make her throw things. It was a battle, and he had to win it without physical strength. A challenge worthy of his status, and he liked the way she looked when she was ticked. Her face screwed up and it made it easier to make fun of her looks than it was when she was calm and she looked so gorgeous. **_Wait a sec…did I just think that? Vegeta-sei to Vegeta, do you read? A low-class human…er…high-class, but human none the less, has no right to you. Besides, _**he thought thinking back to the movie he saw on TMT the other night, what was it? Oh, yeah, Rocky…**_"Women weaken knees!"_** He chuckled and opened his window, levitating down to a tree branch, where he could see Bulma…changing clothes. However, being Saiyajin as he was, her nudity didn't really bug him. He watched the expression in her eyes, you could always tell the crazy ones by the eyes…


	5. Story Time with Veggie or the Hunt for 3...

Chapter 5: Get the party started

Authors Note: Thanks to catgirl26 for the idea for the first part of the story and everyone who actually reviews! I love you all and you are all spared from my fearful wrath! ^_^

Chapter 5: Get the party started!

Bulma smoothed out the wrinkles in her little black dress, and turned to her vanity. A small movement from out the window caught her eye, and she squinted to get a better look. The blood drained from her face as she made out Vegeta's form in the tree near her balcony. Embarrassment paralyzed her as she realized that he must've seen her naked. **_He saw me without my clothes!_** Anger took over embarrassment and she stormed over to the sliding door, nearly taking it off its track as she slammed it open. Her face was beet red, her cheeks puffy, and her nose and forehead crinkled in fury. Vegeta thought that she rather looked like a chipmunk someone had stuffed in the microwave for five minutes, but he thought it was in his best interests not to voice that opinion. After all, if she were angry with him, she wouldn't fix his gravity room the next time he broke it. 

"What the hell do you think you are doing, you damn hentai?" Vegeta had to strain to make out the words she was growling under her breath. 

"Uh…stuff." If Bulma knew Vegeta knew that she was going to kill herself, then she would want to know HOW he knew, and then he would have to go into that rather long, and not so wonderful story about his childhood roommate. Vegeta didn't like that idea, so he decided to stall. However, he hadn't counted on Bulma being persistent. 

"Vegeta, I'm warning you, if you don't get your hairy monkey butt in her at once, I will not only disassemble the gravity chamber, I will refuse to provide you with food and shelter as well."

The idea of having to find food and shelter himself didn't bother him, as he had survived quite well on planets MUCH more inhospitable as Chikyuu, but he did like the gravity chamber perk he got from being here, so he levitated into her room, and sat Indian-style on her bed. He looked up at Bulma who was glaring at him and tapping her foot and found himself retelling the whole story. 

**_Vegeta crouched down, catching his breath, as he stared intently at the body that was lying near him. Raklin sat up gingerly, rubbing his head, trying to focus on the boy in front of him. He cursed at Vegeta as the growing pain in his head exploded and he fell unconscious again. Vegeta grinned and stood as Frieza's voice came over the loudspeaker, announcing him the winner of the juniors again. _**

Later that night, Raklin came into the Common room that connected the dorms together, and found Vegeta sitting on a chair, waiting for him. He walked by the young Saiyajin, heading to their room, but Vegeta wouldn't let him by without saying something.

"I expected better from you, Raklin. However it seems that a 3rd-class Saiyajin brat could beat you. No wonder you never have a female to pleasure you."

Raklin stiffened and walked into their room, followed closely by his short torturer. It was well known that since the young Prince had hit puberty, the side room on Vegeta's side of the dorm was frequented nearly every night, while Raklin's bed gathered dust. He said nothing and stripped, slipping into his bed, and feigned sleep. When Vegeta's breathing became deep and regular, he got up, reaching for his sword. When he turned to Vegeta, his calm face fell. The Prince had a chi shield erected at all times, but Raklin never thought he could keep it up in his sleep. He sat on his bed and laughed, waking Vegeta, who said nothing but listened to Raklin laugh, noting how cold and empty of mirth it sounded. However, he watched the older boy put away his sword and gather his chi. When Raklin had every once of his chi centered, he let it explode from his body and threw himself at Vegeta. Frowning, Vegeta knew that the exploding body could probably penetrate his shield and sting quite a bit so he blasted Raklin as he jumped. A few minutes later, Frieza's guards were dragging Raklin's cold body away. 

Bulma had listened to Vegeta's story intently, almost crying for Raklin when he finished. She honestly didn't blame the boy for wanting to end his own life after having to put up with that sort of crap by Vegeta. However, she might have felt differently had Vegeta told the WHOLE story. Raklin had been Frieza's nephew, and had gotten his biggest kick by making up stories about Vegeta, earning Vegeta many undeserved lashings. However, that point wasn't brought up, and after Bulma convinced Vegeta that she wasn't going to kill herself, she shooed him away, and finished getting ready, making sure to close the balcony curtain. 

Bulma smiled coyly as the man who had just bought her what was probably her 50th drink that night went to relieve himself. **_Good thing most of those were Pepsis._** As soon as he was out of sight, she snuck out of the bar and sat in the driver's seat of her car, and took out her address book. Well, she had 29 names and numbers in there. Hmm…Well, let's see. She was pretty sure she had gone to every bar and club in the West Capital. Couldn't hurt to drive around though. She was just about to give up when she saw a small club on the side of the highway. Making a turn-about at the next exit, she doubled back, promising only to stay a little, as it was getting a bit late for her tastes already. 

Neon lights graced the little building's entrance and pulsating lights in light blues and pinks nearly blinded her when she walked in. she gave a satisfied smirk when she noted that the club was inhabited solely by men. **_Too easy._** Her trained eye swept over all the men who were standing near her. **_No rings or white marks. Single males are popping out of the woodwork here!_** When she stepped into the room, however, all the conversations stopped, and she noticed all eyes on her. After a few moments of awkward silences, everything returned to normal and she was blatantly ignored. **_Not exactly the reaction I calculated, _**she thought, finding a seat at the bar. After sitting there for an hour, she began to get impatient, so she decided that she was going to have to make the first move. She looked around, hunting for the most logical prey, and it was then that she noticed what should have been most obvious to her the moment she walked into the place. All around her there were men…kissing. Happy that she hadn't humiliated herself by flirting with anyone just yet, she ordered a Pepsi from the barkeep for the road, and did the disappearing act of a lifetime. When she was comfortably FAR AWAY from the place and in her own garage, she stopped to laugh at her own inattention. She opened up her address book and scanned through the pages, thinking back to each individual who she had gotten his number. None of them seemed very special to her, and she was rather bummed about the empty #30 slot in her book. She though for a moment, chuckled and wrote down a number quickly, leaving the name empty. **_Not like I'll ever call it. _**She left the book open, sitting in the hood of the car, and went back inside to go to bed. When she had left, Vegeta slipped into the garage and looked at the book, skimming through the entries. When he got to the last one, his eyes narrowed. It looked familiar…Suddenly his eyes widened in realization and shock. It was the number to the phone in his room! Vegeta set the book back in the exact spot and left the garage, deep in thought. 


	6. Taking out the trash

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke. 

Authors note: Thanks to everyone who is reviewing and reading! I'm glad you like! Sorry about slow uploading. I'm busy taking care of mom, sketching, and beating Chrono Trigger while I battle this stupid writer's block. Grr…Oh well. Anyway. This time I'm typing out and posting 2 chapters. Yeah! They will both probably be short, but you'll live, right? 

On to the madness…

"Lay beside me, and tell me what they've done. Speak the words I wanna hear to make my feelings run…" Vegeta gently pressed the skip button on the stereo in his small room. Addicted to rock 'n' roll, he normally relished in Metallica's heavy tone, but today the lyrics on _Reload_'s fourth track were only making him restless. He decided that the break from training was officially over, and he headed for the kitchen, intending to hydrate himself before hitting the chamber. Arriving in the flourescent lighted, vinyl tiled area he rummaged through the whitewashed cabinets until he found a rather large pitcher. After filling it up with water and consistently downing in several times, he wiped the back of his mouth with a gloved hand, eyebrows pricking up with interest as he heard Bulma's agitated voice pick up volume from another room. He lost interest however, when he realized that she was only yelling at the pathetic excuse for a mate she had. He was probably feeding her empty promises on how this time he wouldn't cheat on her while they were engaged, and she was obviously not taking any of his crap this time. **_FINALLY! _**It got rather annoying to Vegeta to see Yamcha over here so much. The Saiyajin no Ouji really hated that man, and the only reason why he didn't arrange for Yamcha to have another appointment with his maker was because the onna wouldn't like that and he was a guest in her house. Diplomacy and Honor could be a pain sometimes. 

Vegeta shrugged and turned to head for the gravity chamber when Bulma yelled for him. Equally curious and annoyed, he stalked into the living room, arms crossed and scowling. 

"What do you want woman? You are postponing valuable training time."

Bulma grinned cheesily at him and sugar coated her voice. "Vegeta, can I ask you a FAY-VOR?" Vegeta grunted, which Bulma knew to take as a "Go ahead and ask, but I don't have to do it." She put her hands behind her back and rocked back and fourth. "I was wondering if you would be a dear and escort Yamcha to the door. He seems to have forgotten the way out." She flashed another grin. "Pretty please with ice cream on top?" 

Vegeta didn't just give his usual smirk. The Prince actually gave a full blown, no holds barred GRIN at the prospect of having permission to get a bit rough on Yamcha, who wasn't as happy as Vegeta was with this turn of events. The scar-faced warrior was glaring daggers at his ex-fiancé. "I see you have your monkey well-trained. Tell Igor here to back off, I can find the door myself." 

Unfortunately for Yamcha, Vegeta had caught the midnight monster marathon, and now knew the story of Dr. Frankenstein, as well as his henchman, and knew the allusion to be an insult. Vegeta stalked toward Yamcha. "I am a slave of NO ONE!" A few moments later Yamcha was more closely aquatinted to his air-car than he would have liked to be. 

Vegeta watched him pull his face off the chrome and speed off, scaring the living daylights out of a little old lady on her afternoon walk. He then turned and re-entered the house to find Bulma staring out the window at the gardens near the music wing. She looked kind of out of it, staring out in space as she was. He shook his head, and walked past her, heading once again for the back door when she spoke. 

"Thanks, Veggie. I was almost going to take him back…that's why I called you." She sighed, and trudged over to the couch, plopping down and proceeded to channel surf. Vegeta shrugged and chuckled a little. 

"You should do that more often. I rather enjoyed it. Quite a…sport, this bodyguard business." Bulma laughed, in spite of the melancholy mood she was in. Then it hit her. Vegeta, Mr. "Kill 'Em All" himself had just not only make a joke that WASN'T pointed at her, but he had cheered her up. She turned again to thank him, but he was already gone. A spaced out alien, an overbearing over-reactive daughter of the Ox-King, A bald ex-monk with no nose, a talking pig, a talking cat, both of which could shape-shift, a fat coward, a introverted green man, and now a mass murdering bad guy gone…less bad. She had some weird friends. 


	7. Gravity Room go Boom...

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke. 

Wheee! All right! I loved the last chapter! I've always wanted Veggie to do that! Heh…Being the evil fanfiction writer is great. 

On to the madness…

After intense physical and mental therapy, Yamcha was once again to his normal self, so he decided to go and visit Bulma. Hiding in the bushes near Capsule Corp, Yamcha watched the house silently. When the door opened and the wish-troll figure of Vegeta walked out, Yamcha held his breath and tried to lower his chi as quickly as possible. Vegeta walked right past him, and Yamcha though he was home free, when Vegeta stopped, grinning, and scratched his temple with his middle finger, giving Yamcha a subtle one-finger-salute. The scarred warrior's eyes were as wide as saucers as the chuckling Saiyajin no Ouji closed the door to the gravity chamber. Yamcha stood up, brushing the leaves and twigs off him, and walked dizzily to the door. If Vegeta knew he was there, why didn't he do something? Yamcha shrugged, not finding a logical answer and rung the doorbell. When Bulma pulled open the door, he used his super-speed to get into the house before she could see him. When she did see him, however, Bulma's eyes narrowed, and she backed up to the intercom system, her finger lingering over the button to the gravity room. Yamcha put his hand up, and started talking faster than he had ever talked in his life. "Bulma, stop. I know I screwed up and you don't want me back, so I won't even try. I just want to be friends. I've known you longer than I've known any of my friends, with the exception of Puar. Please don't push that button. You have no idea how much therapists cost these days."

Yamcha winced, expecting to hear Vegeta's gruff voice coming over the other side, along with another face-plant session in his already well-dented car. However, it was Bulma's mother's voice that piped up over the speaker. Bulma asked her to bring a few pastries to the back porch. Bulma then lead, Yamcha outside to talk a bit. Yamcha, happy that the visit was going even better than he expected, easily chatted with Bulma without strain. Bulma was just explaining her newest idea for a training machine when there was a flash of light and a large rumble. Bulma and Yamcha looked up to see the gravity chamber collapse upon itself. Bulma was the first one to reach the rubble, searching frantically for the alien inside. Her heart was absolutely crazy with worry and her chest contracted, making her breathing labored. She was about to give up hope when she saw a bloodied, gloved hand reaching up for the heavens. She called to Yamcha and started to tug at the large stones and chunks of metal that were over the Saiyajin Prince. Yamcha gave her a hand, making the work go a lot easier. When she and Yamcha had gotten Vegeta uncovered, Bulma crouched down, placing his head in her lap, checking his pulse and respiration. At the movement on his skin, Vegeta stirred, lifting his upper body weight onto his arms, struggling to get up. 

"Oh! Don't do that!" Bulma tried to force his to relax again, but Vegeta would have none of it. He swatted her hand away and tried once more to lift himself up. 

"Leave me be onna, I'm training."

"How is this training?" Bulma narrowed her eyes at Vegeta, intent on not letting him move any more than was necessary. 

"You have yet to learn…respect." Vegeta once more swatted at her, and tried to stand, but he was far too weak from his injuries to move about on his own. After a few minutes of straining his muscles, he collapsed unconscious. Bulma tried to catch him as he fell, but his body weight was too much for her, and she fell with him, her fingers smashed against the stones under his steel frame. 

"Yamcha, help me!" Together they drug the Saiyajin up the stairs and into the infirmary. The Briefs came in and helped hook Vegeta up to different life support machines, and they were equally surprised and relieved to find that Vegeta had suffered no internal bleeding. After a few dozen sedatives (normally used on sharks ranging from 15-20 feet in length…) Vegeta was resting peacefully on the small bed. Yamcha had left an hour earlier for a date, so it was only the Briefs standing over the Prince. Doctor Briefs scratched his head and mentioned that Vegeta should probably be left in peace seeing how their chi being so close might disturb his rest. As they were leaving Bulma heard a small sound behind her, and turned to see Vegeta's face twisted in agony and him softly call out for Goku. His voice was menacing, filled with the promise of a beating. Bulma sat down in the chair beside him, deciding that it would be best for him not to be alone and her parents smiled knowingly from the door behind her as they watched their daughter. 


	8. Idiots in the Infirmary

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke

Author's Note: Hey! Hope you guys liked those last two chapters! Whoopee! I must say that "Taking Out the Trash" has been my favorite chapter to write! I despise Yamcha and I've always wanted that to happen! :: giggles maliciously:: Sorry Yamcha lovers, but I AM Vegeta's Embodiment and I wouldn't be who I am if I liked that POS. Go ahead and flame me. I could care less. If you want to know my e-mail is electrica2@innocent.com. Beware, I do respond to ALL e-mails. Heh heh heh. Alrighty! Now that that's out of my system, I PROMISE that I'll start working on Eden in the Springtime. However, I'd like to see it get more reviews other than the ONE that's there before I post more. Don't worry DBZers! Trunks is in the prologue and there will be all your favorite DBZ characters in the story, it's just an alternate storyline. Prince Vegeta is exiled from Vejiitasei and…. Oh! I can't give all the gushy details. Looks like you'll just have to read and find out! Well, not that I'm done rambling, on to the Well Worn Subject! 

She sighed and propped her head on her hands, elbows on the desk and watched Vegeta sleep. As she watched him, she felt herself go into a state of peaceful relaxation. She was almost out when the front door opened and her mother's shrill voice echoed throughout Capsule Corp. Apparently, they had visitors. Bulma sat up straighter, smoothed her hair, and put on a smile for the guest. Footsteps came quietly at first, and then got louder. Kuririn and Yaijorobe walked in soon, and stared at the sleeping Prince in awe. 

"He still looks so mean." Kuririn almost breathed the words; they came from his lips so softly.

"Heh, he ain't so tough."

"What makes you say that, Yaijorobe?"

"Well, when I cut off his tail, he howled like a little sissy."

Bulma, who had been ignoring their entire conversation, sat up at the chubby man's statement. "That was you?" She was glad that they hadn't woken Vegeta; he still hadn't gotten over the loss of his tail. 

"Of course! Who else would have had enough courage?"

"Everyone but you." Kuririn said blandly. They went back to watching Vegeta who had stirred but still showed the signs of a man asleep. 

"Well," Kuririn said after a few moments, getting uncomfortable suddenly, "we should get going; we just come to check on him." 

"Well, I'll walk you guys to the door." Bulma was happy for an excuse to stretch her legs. She followed the monk out the door, Yaijorobe staying behind for a moment to get one last glance at the Prince in his silent slumber. **_I can kill him now while he's vulnerable._** Yaijorobe pulled his katana from its sheath, and raised it above his head, aiming for the man's exposed chest. Before he could swing it down, however, Bulma's body hit him full force, knocking him into the nearby wall. The sword catapulted upward, spinning in a deadly ring, heading for the invalid. Bulma closed her eyes, and waited for the shower of warm blood that was sure to burst forth when the blade hit Vegeta. The air in the room condensed and crackled, causing Bulma to peek out from between her clenched eyelids. The sword had stopped inches from the Saiyajin. He lifted a finger and the sword instantly vaporized into a cloud of dust. Bulma sneezed a few times, and then sat down, grimacing and rubbing the underside of her nose. 

Vegeta sat up and gave a menacing look to Yaijorobe. "So you're the one…" His voice was callously low, and quite frightening. He gathered chi in his hands, wincing with the effort, but still smiling cruelly. Yaijorobe curled into the fetal position, awaiting his death, and simultaneously wet himself. **_I'm going to regret this_**, Bulma thought, but she still stood and walked bravely over to Vegeta's bedside, sitting down, although the force of his chi was threatening to push her right back onto the floor. 

"There is nothing you can do for him, onna. He deserves this." Vegeta never took his eyes off his target, and the air warmed and shifted as he prepared to fire, calculating so that he would destroy the man, but leave the room unharmed. 

"Just like you deserved to be killed by Kuririn when you first came?" The question was voiced softly; had Vegeta not been a Saiyajin he would have never have heard it. The air pressure returned to normal, popping Bulma's ears, as Vegeta put away his chi ball. Yaijorobe, sensing that it was the time for running, hauled his rear out of Capsule Corp faster than he had ever moved before, breaking the sound barrier. Vegeta Leaned back and crossed his arms scowling and pushing his bottom lip out a bit. Bulma couldn't help but laugh and when he gave her a questioning look, she tried to explain between outbursts of giggles. 

"Oh, Vegeta. You look like…a little kid when…you pout! It's…so…cute!" She stilled her chortles when she caught his glare aimed at her and wiped her eyes. "You know Vegeta, you should pout more often. You don't like such a jerk." 

"What do you care what I look like?" he snarled, turning over on his side away from her and subsequently falling back asleep. Bulma returned to her chair and resumed her guard over him. She decided that she probably needed some coffee when he called out in his sleep again. **_Coffee can wait…_** She sat down again and stared at him, taking in every detail of his back, especially the way it shook with different emotions that he would never voice or show if he was conscious. 


	9. Another Dream, Another Day....OF TRAININ...

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em and I'm broke

Disclaimer: I don't own 'em and I'm broke

**_Walking in the darkness, Vegeta was totally at ease with his surroundings. He had always liked the darkness; it calmed his frayed nerves and let him find a peace that didn't exist in the sunlight. Not that he didn't like the sunlight. There was something pure in it. It was so much cleaner than artificial lighting. He despised filth, so he had always preferred the sun's rays to electric lighting. He heard the rustle of cloth behind him, so he turned his head toward the area where the sound had come from. There HE was. Kakarotto. _**Here's my chance.** Vegeta leapt at the taller man, intent on ramming his fist through that idiotic grin, but before Vegeta reached him, he was gone, and so was his chi. Vegeta looked frantically around, finding no one. A feeling of uneasiness swept over him, so he stayed stark still, waiting for an enemy to appear. A young man materialized out of the darkness. His eyes were cold and blue, reflecting the ice in his expressionless face. He didn't move, just stared at Vegeta, daring him to attack. It was the boy who claimed to be a Saiyajin from the future, but that was impossible unless he was Kakarotto or his son. But he didn't have the coloring of a Saiyajin. He had more of Bulma's coloring. And Bulma was not mating a Saiyajin. He had killed Frieza, much in the way Vegeta himself ha disposed of Nappa. Quick, easy, and nothing at all to break a sweat. Vegeta suddenly felt a rage explode inside him. He had spent his whole life training, waiting for the moment when he could overthrow Frieza and claim power and FREEDOMfor himself. Then along comes this punk and destroys the chance of having such a moment of ecstasy. Vegeta leapt at the boy, foot out for a kick, but the boy, flicking back some lavender bangs, disappeared without a trace. Suddenly Vegeta found himself in his past. He saw himself and his father watching the pods of infant Saiyajins being launched, heading for weaker planets to grow stronger. The two stood together in silence. **

It was the older man who broke the silence, looking down with adoration at his son, telling him how he would be a strong king of a strong people. Vegeta forced the lump in his throat down and closed his eyes from the apparition. When he once again opened them, everything was gone, leaving him in the darkness once again. He felt the lump rise in his throat again and tried to force it down, but could not restrain it this time. Salty tears flowed freely down his cheeks as his muscles constricted in emotional pain. His eyes squinted as he tried to bore the humiliation from his brain. Turning his face to the sky, he shouted angrily at the darkness, at himself. 

"WHY! WHY! I'm supposed to be the strongest! The ruler…" His voice died away. It had felt good to yell, but there was still the heavy melancholy rock weighing down on his heart and sending little rocklets down his body making his disconsolate mood even worse. The tears had never stopped and he lost himself in the rivulets caressing his cheeks.

The darkness faded, and he awoke with a start, his body constricting with the sensation of feeling that wasn't there in the world of dreams. He looked around, finding himself in the same room as before. He looked around, and saw Bulma sleeping, head resting on her arms, in the chair beside him. **_Was she here all along?_** His cheeks felt tight with the tears that had dried there. **_Crying in my sleep like a child…_** He hoped she had been asleep and not seen his tears when they had started to fall. He slowly lifted into a sitting position, and finding no pain hurdling through his body, he decided that he was strong enough to resume training. Swinging his legs over the side of the infirmary bed, he padded out of the room, careful not to wake her as he passed.

~*~

He was already gone when she woke up from the nap. She cursed, then checked the window. It still was closed, which wouldn't be the case if he had decided to leave. She checked the bathroom, which was vacant, and then the kitchen, which was empty as well, especially in the refrigerator. She sighed and then made her way to the security center, activating the voice password. Bulma stared at the various screens, none of which showed movement. She almost left when she remembered that her father had installed a camera in the training cell of the gravitation chamber. She hesitated; thinking that Vegeta wouldn't be as crazy as to resume training so soon after an extensive injury as what he had sustained. However, Vegeta was Vegeta after all, and she wouldn't put anything past him. 

Sure enough, a steady beep began on a new monitor, free of dust, unlike the others. She sat down in the bowl-like leather chair and turned on the computer. Her eyes widened substantially as she saw Vegeta walk onto the screens view and step into a fighting stance. From the sweat that soaked his body and the small burn mark on his shoulder, it was obvious he had already been training a while. Although he seemed to be doing well, she realized that he could still severely injure himself, especially with the Gravitron set a 305Gs like it was. She opened up the visual/audio channels and gave him her most threatening look. 

"Vegeta, you had better stop this madness immediately. You'll just hurt yourself again."

He had been doing push ups and after doing a handstand, flipped himself up in the air, spinning in the high gravity. When she had popped up in front of him it had startled him, but he kept spinning, making Bulma a bit dizzy on the other end. She shrugged and cut off her ranting. 

"Woman, do you want to live in three years?"

Bulma smiled and prepped her hair. "Why, yes. I'm a young and beautiful woman!"

"THEN SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE!" Bulma got the allusion to the android coming, and decided that he was right and turned off the connection. Before she got up to go get Vegeta's supper ready, she whispered, "Just be careful, it would be awfully boring without you."


	10. Gravitron madness (aka, the chapte writt...

Bulma sat at the table, pushing her food around on her plate. Dr. Briefs studied her for a moment, and then set down his fork. 

"Bulma, honey, is there something wrong?"

"No daddy, I'm fine," she replied, not looking up at him. 

"Bulma, you can't lie to me. I'm a scientist and you are showing obvious signs of distress. Little or no appetite, refusal to make eye contact to…"

"How long has Vegeta been in the gravity room?"

"What?"

"How long has he been training?"

"Um…a few days perhaps?"

"This is stupid." Bulma stood up and made her way to the counter grabbing a large Tupperware bowl from the top shelf and started to fill it with food. "If he's too proud to ask for help, then I'll just have to start 'conveniently' taking his meals to the Gravitron." After filling up the bowl completely, she walked outside, leaving the Briefs smiling and nodding. 

~*~

Bulma entered her code and the gravity generator slowly tuned down, going slowly so that the sudden drop wouldn't send Vegeta flying into the ceiling or anything. The large steel door shot up when the gravity was completely off and stepped inside. Looking around, she set down the bowl and scratched her head, looking for Vegeta. She was about to call out for him when she spotted a large mass huddled in a corner, shaking uncontrollably. Bulma stopped for a moment; her breath caught in her throat, and walked over to Vegeta. He was sitting with his back to her, his arms around his knees, hugging his legs to his body.She listened to his erratic, heavy breathing for a moment and watched his sweaty back glisten as it shook. And she realized he was on the verge of tears. Bulma didn't think that she could handle seeing Vegeta cry. She hated it when a grown man cried, but she could handle it, but not with Vegeta. Vegeta couldn't cry, he wasn't supposed to. Bulma leaned down and placed her hand on his shoulder, jumping when his already tense muscles bunched up under her touch. She held her breath, thinking he'd hit her or order her out, but when he didn't, she thought she'd push her luck a little, and walked in front of him, never pulling her hand away from his shoulder. She crouched in front of him and looked into his eyes. Tears hadn't started to well up in them yet, but they were bloodshot and his face was pale. Immediately, Bulma started acting on instinct and she pushed his knees down and sat in his lap, putting her arms around him, rubbing his back, and murmuring to him. The next thing she knew she was shoved against the wall of the gravity chamber, Vegeta glaring down at her with a strange look in his eyes. 


	11. Gunning Down Romance

Chapter 11: Gunning Down Romance

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke. 

AN: Sorry it took so long for me to start writing again! I went through a couple of blocks and I haven't felt much like writing since the funeral. But I'm back! I'm even seriously contemplating making 'Desires of the Heart' a series at your requests! Plus, I'm re-starting Eden in the Springtime, because I was on a retardation binge when I started writing it!

~*~

"'Geta? You're hurting me," Bulma whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes as she stared at him, fear and confusion switching places rapidly in her cerulean eyes. Her voice broke him out of his trance, and Vegeta released his grip, slumping down into a broken heap on the floor. Filled with apprehension, Bulma stayed back, wanting to comfort him, but too scared to approach him. A pitiful wail rose up and he looked up at her, pain, anger, and mystification written in his normally unreadable eyes. Looking away, he turned from her. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry Bulma. I didn't mean to cause you pain, or worry. I'll be fine." He stood up shakily, and left quickly, tapping his Saiyajin speed. Bulma watched his retreating back head for his window. It took a minute to compose herself, but she walked slowly to the house, giving Vegeta a little to calm himself down. Not quite knowing what she was going to say, she rapped gently on his door, hoping he'd talk. After a moment of pause, a hoarse voice granted her the permission to enter. 

The sight inside the room made Bulma feel sick as she felt her stomach drop to her toes. Vegeta had changed from his training outfit. Standing by the window, framed by the storm clouds outside, the lightning flashing, and the new-falling rain beating on the window, he was the perfect stereo type of the dark, dangerous prince every girl dreams of. His normally wild hair was positively disheveled, and his onyx eyes were emphasized by the pale of his face. With an intake of breath, Bulma steeled herself and took a seat on a small armchair in the corner. 

"What's wrong Vegeta? You can talk to me. I won't tell anyone." He looked at her, studying her face as if he thought that her pleas were lies to lure him into pain. After a moment of consideration, he sighed and bowed his head, sitting on the edge of his bed. 

"It seems no matter how hard I train, I can't get stronger than Kakarotto. I'm always one step behind that…fool."

"It's about Goku? Vegeta…"

"NO! You don't understand! You couldn't possibly ever understand! You don't know the whole story…" 

"I would if you told me." Vegeta stopped, staring at her, not blinking. Finally he replied dully, no ardor in his voice. 

"When I was a little boy, I was taken from my father and my world and put on Frieza's ship. While there I was beaten if I showed any weakness, any emotion other than rage and violence. I lived to kill, killed to live. That's how things were. Frieza degraded me, beat me to a bloody pulp, spit on me. He tried to break my spirit and mold me to a perfect servant. Completely shattered to his will. He just fueled my purpose though. I was going to rid the universe of him as soon as I was strong enough. That's all I lived for. Revenge. Revenge on my family, my world, me. The only reason I didn't give my life in some battle or another was to get back at Frieza for ruining me. He changed me. I was near the level I needed to be to destroy him when Kakarotto…I'll never forgive him. It was to be my final victory. Kakarotto doesn't even consider himself a Saiyajin, nor does he even care for the destroyed race. He grew up surrounded by love and warmth. And he was the hero of the day. While I was a supporting character, inconsequential in my own reprisal. No longer even a Prince, the title I clung to as all I had. A Prince of WHAT!?! Of NOTHING! My only subject doesn't even care for what he is, and he is stronger than I! How? What of the legends? I was to be the first to achieve the next level, but he took that from me too! I can't even get past 550 Gs, but he goes Super Saiyajin." Vegeta fell back, putting his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. Bulma searched for something to say, but all she could do was wipe at the tears falling down her cheeks. After a few moments, Vegeta turned over onto his side and curled up, yawning. "I just wonder sometimes why I'm still here. I have no reason to live. Kakarotto will probably defeat all the androids as well, casting me into the shadows as his light shines stronger again. I all to often wish I could fall asleep and wake up somewhere else, where at least I'm welcome. Not that I care that the other fighters despise me, mind you, I just get lonely time to time. Or maybe I shouldn't wake up at all." Vegeta's shoulders started moving more rhythmically as he calmed to the point of falling sleep. Uncertainly, like approaching a dog known to bite, she crept over to the bedside and snuggled next to Vegeta, putting her arms around him. 

~*~

(AN: I'm not going to do a lemon. As much as I enjoy reading some of them (Hey, I've got hormones too!) I can't write them without cracking up and claiming dorkdom.)

~*~

Pale light from the sun filtered in through the royal blue curtains, illuminating slightly the woman Vegeta held in his arms. Looking down at her apathetically, he studied her features. His stomach rumbled a little and he cursed it as Bulma stretched and took a deep breath. With sleepy eyes, she looked up at him and gave a sweet smile, cuddling against his body. 

"Well, well, what have we here?" Vegeta whispered quietly, his expression perpetual stone. "What ogre has snuck between my sheets?"

Bulma paled visibly, her entire body tensing up. Tears were already welling up in her eyes as she stood, wrapping the quilt around her naked form. She left wordlessly after analyzing his face for a few moments, retreating to her own room. After she left, Vegeta broke his mask, sitting up and putting his head in his hands. "It's for the best…the best," he said softly. Her voice came back to him, haunting. **_"You are going to be one of those people with a lonely life and an even lonelier death. No woman would want to be with a monster like you." _** He sighed. "That is what she said. She could never really want me. It was the loneliness. That's all. You're on your own, Vegeta. You always were." Dressing, he high tailed it to the gravity room, starting his rigorous exercises.

~*~

In her room, Bulma plopped down on her bed, feeling more tired than she had ever in her life. Laying in her own bed, she tossed and turned. It wasn't the same. Somehow, she couldn't sleep well on her own when she had been so comfortable in his arms a few minutes earlier. (AN: *sarcastically* Poor Bulma! MWAHAHA!) Turning over onto her side, she finally got rid of the feeling of being against his chest and drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

**_Bulma woke up in a familiar room, one she hadn't visited in a while. She looked around, sitting up and pushing the black silk sheets down past her feet. Standing on the cherry wood floor, she looked down. Wearing a dark green evening dress, Bulma walked in a small circle fascinated with the effects the purple lighting gave the fabrics. She walked over to the black leather couch, and opened the small fridge at it's side. After retrieving a pear she sat back and bit into the fruit, wondering why she was back here. The sweet juice flowed down her throat and she savored the gritty flesh as she munched, staring straight ahead at the black wall. "Beginning of the End" played, Systematic's heavy sound beating around her as her memories floated. _**

"'Well done. I knew that you would make a suitable meeting place.'

'What?' She sat up straighter, trying to make sense of his words. 

'This shall be the site of our game, my dear, and quite a fitting one at that.'"

What game what Vegeta playing her at, though. He didn't answer that question for her last time either, she remembered. Bulma bit into the pear again, and juice ran down the side of her hand. She looked at it, dismayed, then turned her attention to find something to wipe it off with. However, she didn't have to do anything because her hand was caught up in a strong grip. Her head snapped to the side and she found herself staring straight into the eyes of the Saiyajin Prince himself. He took Bulma's small hand and licked the juice from her fingertips, then kissed her, letting her taste the sweet fluid on him. When he broke away, Bulma remembered that she needed to breathe to survive. Not being able to say anything, but feeling crushed again, his cruel words of earlier ringing through her head, she burst into tears. Vegeta took her in his arms, not letting her go when she fought him.

"Bulma, listen to me. I'm sorry. But you don't love me and I CAN'T love you. You're better off forgetting it. I'm here to train. To fight. Not love. I wish you happiness. With all the crap Yamcha put you through, you deserve it." He stood and was gone. 

"If this is the game, Vegeta, it's not entertaining…" she whispered into the solitude. 

Waking from her dream, Bulma sat up straight. "The strange room again." She shook her head and laid back down. She didn't feel like doing anything at the time, and sleep was the only thing that was appealing to her at the current moment. Risking more dreams, she fell back asleep, unaware of the Saiyajin no Ouji in the corner of her room, who raised his hand, gathering a small trace of chi. After his hand started glowing, Vegeta walked over to Bulma's sleeping form and lowered his hand to her midsection, his hand frozen in air. His brow furrowed. "Now's my chance…but could I risk it?"

**__**


	12. The Pro-Choice Problem

Chapter 12: The Pro-Life Problem

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke

AN: Wow! I'm so glad I'm not hated for taking such a dreadfully long time off of writing, and I want to thank you all! Especially those of you who e-mailed me about this story. I NEVER get e-mails from people about my writings and other works, so that was a huge surprise that made my day. I'm sorry for last time's evil cliffy…erm…actually I'm not, but it drove me crazy too, wanting to write what happened next, so here it is….

~*~

**__**

Warmth radiated away from Vegeta's hand as it neared Bulma's stomach. Tiny droplets of sweat ran down his face. He had to practice a surgeons care in this or things could go horribly wrong. Inches away, his hand started to falter as Bulma moved slightly, her own hand reaching toward the heat he was giving off. He pulled back suddenly, as if her slightest touch would cause him mortal harm. She stirred, making Vegeta opt for a quick getaway, rather than this task he was certain was for the best. 'The woman will find out soon enough.' Standing out on the perfect green lawn, Vegeta glared up at the window he just exited from, it's two occupants dancing in his mind.

~*~

(AN: Have you figured it out yet? Bulma's pregnant!!! Vegeta was going to do the abortion thing himself, but decided against it. Which is good, because then there wouldn't be a Trunks in this story! *Nicci-chan wails in agony. "TRUNKS! My beloved! Trunks…" V. E. holds her Veggie-chan plushie close and fears the sanity of her friend, and herself…* Well, that was fun…Let's get back to the tale.) This Authors Note has been brought to you in part by the Chibi Destructo Mallet. Building a better future one mangling at a time….

~*~

Stretching, Bulma pulled herself up out of bed and yawned, glaring at her buzzing alarm clock. The Hell-freezing glare soon transformed into a look of sheer horror as she realized that hitting the snooze button fifty million times didn't wake you up in time for work. In what can only have been proclaimed as the "Poetry in Motion" rendition of The Flight of the Bumblebee, the blue-haired beauty raced over to her closet and yanked out a nice business suit and matching shoes. Pressed for time, she kept her makeup simple, leaving her optimum time for styling her hair, which she would also keep as uncomplicated as her make-up for convenience. As she was brushing out the last of the knots in her hair, her gaze wandered to the calendar over the clock. Two weeks prior a small mark had been placed in the date's box. It had been a full fourteen days since she had "comforted" Vegeta and he had insulted her, sending her to her own room to contemplate her horrible luck with guys. Fourteen days since she had had the dream of the room again, where Vegeta had told her he couldn't love her. Not that she ever expected him to. All that mattered to him, all that he thought he had left was power. Nothing else mattered. Not to him, not ever to him. It wasn't like she really cared, either. Vegeta had been good for a night of fun, compensating for his antisocial overbearing attitude. She didn't care that he had used her like a fresh-from-the-box Kleenex, only to discard her when he was through. It had happened before, with Yamcha. Although Yamcha was sweet, he just wasn't ready for commitment. A light chuckle came from Bulma as she remembered how eager Vegeta had been for Yamcha to get on her nerves again since he got to give the ex-bandit a close-up of his vehicle. Standing up and smoothing her knee-length skirt down, Bulma admired herself in the mirror. She winked and blew the reflection a kiss before running down the stairs, and into the kitchen. Mrs. Briefs was at the stove and Bulma saw a small plate of eggs, bacon and toast ready for her. However, the minute she laid eyes on the food, bile rose in her throat, the bitter taste crowning her face with a grimace. 

Rushing over to the bathroom, she carefully held her hair back as she hurled. (AN: Wow, what a graceful sentence!) The putrid smell gone when she flushed the toilet, she proceeded to eradicate the bitter taste from her mouth by brushing her teeth until blood tinted the bristles of her brush. Her mother hurried in, holding a glass of orange juice. "Honey, are you alright?" 

"I feel horrible…" Mrs. Briefs' brows furrowed for a moment.

"Well, I'll go call the doctor. It's time for a check-up anyway." Bulma nodded, sinking against the porcelain throne and leaned her forehead against the cool ceramic surface. 

~*~

Sitting in the waiting room made both Bulma and Vegeta nervous. For Bulma it was because of the location. She hated hospitals and therefore anything having to do with them. It had always been a little fear, one that was easily ignored, but with Vegeta near her, it just seemed so much worse. For Vegeta, who was completely anti-humanity, he was getting antsy because of the well-crowded place filled to the brim with sickness. Not that he was actually AFRAID of them, he just didn't want ANY of these people around. Plus, he was already in a horrible mood for being forced, by threat of Gravitron de-activation, to take the stupid woman to her stupid doctors appointment. They both breathed a sigh of relief when the nurse cam out and called Bulma to go into the examination room. Curious to "alien" methods of judging ailments, Vegeta decided to follow her to find out what could possible be wrong with the onna that he was unaware of. 

Inside the exam room, Bulma hoisted herself up onto the leather bed/thing that was covered with a strip of wax paper, the paper crumbling and making various noises under her. Vegeta found a seat in a rather cold, uncomfortable chair. 

The doctor entered, smiling, looking like she was making quite an effort to keep in her over-happiness. "Well, Bulma Briefs, I've got good news. You're going to have a baby." Bulma's jaw dropped, but before she could say anything in response, the doctor was already over at Vegeta's side.

"Are you the happy father?"

"I'm not exactly happy, but I assure you that I AM the father." he said blandly, not looking at her, but past her to Bulma, who was turning various shades of color from blue and white to red and orange. Feeling the tension growing in the room, the doctor make a hasty retreat, leaving a nonchalant Vegeta smirking at a very angry woman. 

"Hell hath no fury as a woman scorned." He laughed. "Right now, woman you look like hell incarnated. Don't say anything. We've yet another place to be." 

"And where is that, Vegeta?" Bulma's cold fury calmed her voice, though she was boiling inside. 

"Another clinic."

"Why?"

"We're getting rid of the brat, the way you do on earth. I could use my chi, but I'm afraid I'd harm you."

"NANI!?!"

"You heard me."

"I HEARD you, but we are NOT having an abortion, Vegeta." He frowned, not expecting her to want to keep the child.

"You are a human. I don't think your body could handle a Saiyajin…"

"Chichi did it."

"Kakarotto's mate was a warrior. You are not strong eno…" He was cut off by her cold glare, freezing him in place. 

"Take me home Vegeta, I'm tired." Vegeta nodded, and after paying the co-pay for the exam the two were off for the compound. Arriving home, Bulma stalked off to the room, and Vegeta to his gravity room, neither of them saying a word. 

"How did it go, sweetie?" Her mother chirped as Bulma stomped up the stairs. 

"I'm pregnant with a monster by a man who isn't fit to be the father of his own feces. I'm tired and I'm going to bed." Mrs. Briefs' cheerful disposition evaporated immediately as she watched her daughter stagger to her room, an invisible rock weighing heavily on her shoulders. 

~*~

FIVE MONTHS LATER…..(Oh, it sounds like my science experiment! Five months later, the fungi life form has begun to substantially eat away at the carbonate body of my younger cousin. As she lays on the floor twitching, her body greatly dilapidated from her all-SPAM diet….ANYWAYS….That's of no concern to you. You guys just want the damn story.)

Bulma stood in front of the mirror, examining herself in the reflection. Clad in a paint-stained white T-shirt of Goku's that had been left at their house at one time or another, she turned to look at her from the side. Her breasts had started to swell a bit, and her stomach had certainly swelled substantially. Her appetite rivaled Vegeta's now that she was eating for herself AND a Saiyajin. Well, half a Saiyajin. She was human, making her first child a mutt. Disgusted, she turned and stalked out of the bathroom, feeling in a sour mood. She laid down on the bed, and curled into a ball, letting desperate tears leak from her eyes to cascade onto the sheet. A gruff voice reprimanded her from the corner.

"Why do you cry so much. Now I know where all that liquid you drink goes."

"Shut up Vegeta. I've got every reason to cry."

"Oh, and what are they?"

"For starters, I look like the Goodyear blimp, I'm eating more in a month I've ever eaten per year, and another thing, I'm carrying the monster child of a father who hates me! Why the hell shouldn't I cry!?"

"Woman…"

"Go away Vegeta, just go." Bulma reached over and turned on her CD player, letting a heavy beat come through. Recognizing music as Bulma's expression of feeling, he listened to the lyrics intently.

****

And I wonder day to day  
I don't like you anyway  
I don't need your shit today  
You're pathetic in your own way  
I feel for you  
Better fuckin' go away  
I will behave  
I'm doing the best I ever did  
I'm doing the best that I can  
Now go away

Not letting the song finish through, Vegeta ripped the stereo off the wall and flung it across the room. She sat up and glared at him. Then something that Vegeta considered wholly miraculous occurred. Bulma registered a chi in his mind. She never had before, and Vegeta backed up as it skyrocketed. Before his eyes, a golden aura flared around Bulma. However something was different, her chi wasn't originating in the same place, nor did it feel like her. No, this was a masculine chi. What the hell was going on?

(AN Oh, I think that's enough for today. *insert Acme evil grin here* See you guys next chapter!)


	13. Love's Labor

Chapter 13: Love's Labor

Disclaimer: Don't own 'em and I'm broke.

AN: Good guessing guys! The chi was in fact our little Trunks, peeved because of Bulma's anger toward Vegeta. And yes, he's being a prick. You didn't honestly think that it would be THAT easy to get them together, did you? Seriously. A one night stand doesn't usually lead to love. That takes work and a stubborn heart. Just what Bulma has and is capable of, but then again, Veggie is pretty stubborn too. Anywho…On with the goodness….

~*~

Vegeta felt his jaw drop as Bulma actually levitated off the bed, and glared at him, her hair shooting straight up, standing by force of chi to mirror his own style. She reminded him of ningen stories he had heard of humans "possessed" by unearthly daemons. Not only was he intrigued, Vegeta had to admit he was a tad bit scared too. Never had she shown this potential, but then again, it wasn't her. The signature of the chi was obvious now, it was a mix of hers and his, with undoubtedly male essence. Their brat. And it was taking her side. Were mother and child linked that closely? Vegeta was almost jealous for a moment, but quickly shoved any feeling away and stood with arms crossed as the chi faltered, the unborn child supplying it growing tired, as well as his mother's body, not used to such energy. Bulma started to fall to the ground, but Vegeta made sure to catch her fall, careful of her full belly. After laying her on the bed, he chuckled when he noticed that she had already fallen asleep. Watching her a few moments he determined that the woman was out for the count, and she wouldn't be waking up any time soon. Slowly, he put his ear onto Bulma's stomach, laughing softly as the chi flared again, although not as strongly this time. 'Come now little one, I'm not going to hurt the onna.' A slight smile graced his normally icy features as the chi lowered slowly. His son would be strong indeed. Covering Bulma up with a blanket, Vegeta made a B-line for the gravity room.

~*~

Bulma was due in a couple of weeks and she hadn't seen hardly any sign of Vegeta since the day he had torn the radio from her wall. Bulma and her mother busied themselves with the nursery and the different tests had come out to prove that the child inside Bulma would, in fact, be male, as Vegeta had predicted. Mrs. Briefs chirped over to her daughter that she was going to go and buy some more dinosaur stickers to decorate the outside of the crib since they had run out. Nodding, Bulma continued to fold the socks and night suits into the top drawer of the dresser/changing table combo they had found the day before. However busy she was, Bulma couldn't shake the feeling that her mother hadn't left the room. She turned to see if she was alone and was met with a gaze of black eyes. Vegeta was the only one standing in the room, by the crib. On the night table next to him were four packs of dinosaur stickers. Frowning, Bulma crossed her arms, unconsciously making herself a reflection of the man in front of here. Surprisingly, Vegeta was the first to speak. 

"We need to talk."

"Is that why you ran my mom out?"

"She left on her own when I walked in."

"Well, Now that we know you can successfully scare us baka ningens, you fan go back to training."

"I said we needed to talk."

"Nandato?"

"I'm leaving."

"Nani?"

"Don't make me repeat myself, onna. I'm leaving. I've reached my limit in your machine and I'm going to do heavier training in space. I require a space ship."

"Is this your idea of talking? Listen, buddy. I don't know how it was on Vegetasei, but when people talk here, they're usually coming to a compromise about differing opinions."

"Well, I want to leave. You want me to leave, what is there to compromise?"

"I never said I wanted you gone…"

"Well, then what do you want me to do, onna? Stay here and train and not get any better and have us all killed in a year?"

"No…" Bulma was starting to feel really small.

"Then what do you suggest I do, genius?"

"You should go train where you think is best, Vegeta."

"That's right."

"But…"

"But what?"

"I want you to stay for the birth of our son."

"Our brat? You mean your brat."

"It takes two to tango. I didn't masturbate and get pregnant, you know."

"I'm not staying to see some baka infant pop out from between your legs like a daisy. I'm going to train."

"If you don't stay, I will refuse to provide the space ship." Vegeta growled, and looked into her eyes. They were cold as an ice wall, and just as unmoving. Deciding to let her have her way this once, and never again, Vegeta nodded and left the room, heading for the gravity chamber. If he were staying, then there was no use in getting rusty until he could leave. 

~*~

That night Bulma dressed in an oversized tee and carefully eased her way into bed. Her back hurt, her head hurt, and most of all her heart hurt. She thought about Vegeta leaving, mostly. They had never been very close and the one night stand had been all of their relationship, but she was going to miss him. She didn't know why, but her heart was breaking at the thought of losing him. She dismissed it as the hormones of pregnancy corrupting her thinking and drifted off into a fitful sleep. 

~*~

**__**

Bulma was running, clutching her aching, swollen stomach as she went. She tried to picture in her mind what she was running from, but found she couldn't. Her old courage that always found a foothold when needed forced her to turn in her tracks and face what was chasing her . She turned, the feeling of lightheadedness registering and found her face to face with two women. One was young, beautiful, and seemingly happy. But her eyes were restless. Blue hair was done up in the latest style and her wardrobe was only the best in fashion. Bulma recognized herself immediately. But it wasn't her. The eyes were different, and the reflection wasn't with child. Movement to her side caused her to turn, coming face to face with another image of herself, this one looking just as fashionable, but more tired, defeated. Her eyes were sad, and wrinkles of stress weren't well concealed. Stepping back so that she could see both women, Bulma tried to speak, but found that she could not. The first one held up her hand. 

"You cannot talk. We have much to tell and little time to tell it." She looked at Bulma for a moment and then smiled. "You wonder what this all is, don't you?" Bulma nodded in reply. "We are the Paths not Taken. This is what could have been. Trust us, you took the right path. She," The one with the restless eyes pointed to the defeated one. "is what you would have become if you had not coupled with Vegeta. He would have become more and more verbally abusive, unlike the passive, cold person he is now until he snapped and killed Yamcha, Goku, and Piccolo during a sparring match. That would have led to the other fighters depressions. Vegeta would then have killed off everyone else who opposed him and he would have taking over the world. The only good thing that would come of this, is that the androids creator would have no reason to release them, as Goku would be dead, and seeing Vegeta as a strong ruler, he would offer his services, only to be killed by Vegeta. Angered by your friends deaths, you would go after Vegeta to kill him, but he would kill you instead. So you see, even though this choice you made doesn't seem right, it was good that you did.

Now I, you see is the what if of a later decision on your part. If you would have had the abortion that Vegeta suggested, none of the other Z senshi would have found out about you and Vegeta's one night stand. Yamcha, asking you out again, would have proposed. This is you as Yamcha's wife. Trust me. Yamcha and you are better off as friends. He's not dominant enough for you, and your too high maintenance for him. 

Now, getting to the important part. You've got two paths you can take from here. Of course there are other paths you can take too. You make your own destiny, Bulma. Nothing is set. Here however, the two that will make you happiest. They both have the same outcome, but different outcomes, you know. It depends on what kind of a Vegeta you want, and if you really want this child. In two days, Vegeta will go through a little hormonal imbalance for seven hours that will render him completely open to the effects of ningen alcohol. If you can get him drunk and couple with him between 1 and 8 that evening, you will have completed a Saiyajin ritual that says two Saiyajin who mate twice are mated forever. He wont be able to leave your side ever. However, you will have a miscarriage from Vegeta not having any control what-so-ever. The other choice is to let Vegeta make a very important decision. One that's important to him at least…" The two women in front of her faded before the Restless Bulma could finish telling her what to do. Bulma felt like she was in an earthquake, for suddenly the ground gave out beneath her and she tumbled and tossed down a jagged hole.

"Woman! Wake up!" Bulma opened her eyes and glared at Vegeta, who was gently shaking her. "What is that look for? You were having nightmares."

"What makes you think that, Vegeta?" she asked groggily, sitting up and pushing him away. 

"Maybe it's because you were whimpering. Or it could have been the tears on your cheeks." He reached over and touched her face. When Vegeta pulled back his hand, Bulma could see that the tips of his fingers were moist. 

"That's weird. I wasn't having a bad dream…just an odd one." Bulma went to lay back down when a horrible pain racked her entire body. 


End file.
